Poems from cbarreau92

I've been writing fairly consistently since my early teens. Writing, for me, has always been a release. A release for creativity, for emotions, for experiences, for nightmares and dreams...anything and everything underneath the sky.
He is withering before my eyes – I blinked and suddenly, he had aged. Where did that strapping, strong man go? I ponder this as I stare...
I quake under his scornful stare; It penetrates me to my core, like the edge of a knife so sharp, it cuts through steel as if it were mere...
Her breath rasped and grated in the frightening, cold stillness of the sterile room. She could hear the thundering stampede of her heart...
You want to hold him – To take him in your arms and Crush him to you until he can’t Breathe anymore. Oh, but that’s impossible… There is...
The shadows are stirring again. His breath is puffing out in erratic, sharp bursts. His chest feels tight, as his knuckles turn white...

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